Paradox Lake

by Vincent Zandri

  “Tony,” I scream, “watch out!”

  Ed goes for Tony with the knife, manages to cut his upper arm. But that doesn’t stop Tony from pounding both his fists into Ed’s face. That’s when they both fight for control of the knife. Picking myself up, I make my way to them. Bending at the knees, I unbuckle Tony’s leather belt buckle, yank the belt from his waist. I then wrap the belt around Ed’s thick neck and squeeze both ends as hard as I possibly can. I put all my rage into it … all my sculptor’s tinsel strength, just like I did to Tim. The monster’s face begins to turn blue and purple, his black eyes wide.

  He let’s go of the knife while he desperately tries to loosen the belt with his thick fingers. But he can’t. I’m too strong, too enraged, too determined. The knife drops to the floor. Tony immediately picks it up and thrusts it into the monster’s barrel chest not once, but at least a half dozen times. The blood spatter is everywhere, and we’re all screaming at the top of our lungs. Until Ed drops to his knees. The monster’s body now covered in his own blood, he slowly glances over his shoulder at Anna.

  “Saaaaarrrahhhh,” he softly whispers.

  He then face-plants onto the basement floor.

  Tony looks me in the eyes. He’s breathing so heavily I pray he doesn’t suffer a heart attack.

  “Let’s get the hell out of here,” he insists.

  “You don’t have to tell us twice,” Anna says.

  “I’ll grab the flashlight,” I say, bending at the knees and grabbing hold of it.

  Like one big, happy, reunited family, we escape the horrible house in the woods.

  CHAPTER 51

  ONCE OUTSIDE, I can’t help but eye the lonely, rain-drenched dog.

  “One second,” I say.

  Making my way to the dog, I unclasp the chain.

  Now realizing he is suddenly free, the dog bounds up and makes a run for it into the thick woods. I’m not sure where’s he’s going, but one thing is for sure, his days of being abused at the hands of a madman are over. Shining the light on the racks of animal skins, I feel a cold chill run up and down my backbone. While two of the skins are clearly deer skins, another contains no fur. The skin is smooth, like that of a human being.

  “My dear God in heaven,” I whisper.

  Who knows what the police will soon discover in this nightmare of a house. Who knows how many missing persons will finally be discovered.

  “Rose, we’ve got to go,” Tony says.

  We don’t retrace our footsteps through the rain-soaked woods. We gather into Tony’s Jeep and make our way to a two-tracked road that eventually leads to the Moore house.

  As we pass by it, Tony doesn’t slow down for even a New York second.

  “Wait,” I say. “I want to at least gather up my sculpture. It’s important.”

  “I need my phone and my things,” Anna says.

  Tony rolls his eyes.

  “You’re kidding me, right?” he says. “We need to be going to the police.”

  “Listen,” I say, “when that happens, they’ll close the entire house off as evidence and I won’t be able to get at my stuff. Come on, it’ll just take a minute. Besides …”

  “Besides what?” he says.

  “The bad guys are dead.”

  He pulls up into the drive behind my now disabled Mini Cooper.

  Opening the Jeep door. “I’ll be right out.”

  “I’m not letting you go in there alone,” Tony insists.

  “I’m not staying out here alone,” Anna adds.

  Lighting the way with my flashlight, more thunder rumbles in the distance. Will this storm ever end? Christ, will this night ever end? The rain falls while we make our way up the porch. The door is unlocked because I never had the chance to lock it before I left the house earlier with Tim trapped in the basement.

  Heading inside, Anna goes for the stairs.

  “Wait,” I say. “Tony, you go. Anna, you’re not to go anywhere but right here, do you understand?” My eyes back on Tony. “You’ll know what I mean when you go in there.”

  “But, Mom,” Anna protests. “My clothes.”

  In my head, I see the skinned torso of Father O’Connor under the bed covers.

  “But nothing,” I say. “Tony, just grab her phone and her charger. You’ll see them on the night table. We can always buy you new clothes, Anna.”

  She frowns and crosses her arms around her chest.

  “You grab the phone, Tony, and I’ll get what I need from my studio, and then we’re back out this front door in less than one minute. Are we all clear on that?”

  “Got it,” Tony says.

  Tony heads up the staircase while Anna stands with her back against the door. I turn, and swallowing a deep, bitter breath, follow the blood trail along the living room floor, into the studio.

  It’s like being caught up in a nightmare as I cross over the dining room, my eyes trying not to focus on the priest’s severed head, but not able to avoid it at the same time. My stomach cramps and the nausea returns. Entering into the room, I try my best not to step in the puddle of blood that’s accumulated on the floor around the sculpture stand. The bust of Sarah now resting on the worktable, I grab hold of it and cradle it under my left arm. I also tear the newspaper clippings of her abduction and murder off the wall. About-facing, I head back in the direction I came, happy as hell for the studio to be behind me.

  I make out the sound of Tony coming back down the stairs. He’s got the phone and charger in one hand, and in the other, the rare edition of Little Red Riding Hood. His face is noticeably pale even in the dark. I give him a look like, Now you know why I didn’t want Anna to go up there. In return, he offers me a nod.

  “Here you go, sweetheart,” he says, a noticeable trembling in his voice.

  She takes the phone and charger in hand.

  “That book I never want to see again,” she says.

  Tony purses his lips and scrunches his brow like he should have known better. He crosses over the room, tosses the book in the fireplace. Too bad the fire isn’t still going. In my head, I picture the cover and every page with the Big Bad Wolf illustrated on it burning up in the fires of hell.

  “Let’s go guys,” I say. “Now.”

  Anna opens the door, and we step out onto the porch and down onto the path that leads to the driveway and the Jeep. In my head, I’m already making plans to have my Mini Cooper towed back to Albany once I make it safely back home and the state police are on the case. No doubt they’ll want to use the car as evidence, at least for a while.

  Lightning flashes and thunder follows. At this point, I hardly even notice it. The storms have been raging for more than a full day and we’re lucky to be alive. I just want to get the hell away from this place, get back home, safe and sound with Anna and Tony. I hate myself for dragging her up here and I hate myself even more for drifting from Tony when I completely took his love for us for granted.

  God forgive me …

  Tony opens the passenger-side door of the red two-door Jeep Wrangler, pulls the passenger seat up so that Anna can get in. When she’s safely planted in the back seat, he pushes the bucket seat back in place and I get it in. But before that, I take him in my arms, squeeze him, and kiss him on the cheek.

  “What’s that for?” he asks.

  “For being there for us,” I say. “For rescuing us. For being our hero.”

  He looks at me and smiles.

  “I love you guys,” he says. “What else did you expect?”

  “Let’s go home,” I say.

  He goes around to the passenger side, climbs in behind the wheel, and turns the key. The engine doesn’t fire up. Instead, it goes, click-click-click.

  “Oh no,” I say, feeling my insides sinking to somewhere around my feet.

  “Try again,” Anna presses.

  Tony pumps the gas and turns the key again.

  Click-click-click.

  “I don’t know what’s happening,” he says. “It’s never done this before.
”

  Lightning flashes and I find myself glancing in the side-view mirror. The bloody face appears above the black printed words, “Objects in mirror are closer than they appear.”

  “Get out of the Jeep!” I scream.

  Tony turns, spots Tim trying to open the passenger-side door. But I manage to lock it at the last second.

  “Out my side!” Tony yells.

  Anna climbs over the center console and follows Tony out. I follow. Tim comes around the front grill, but Tony tackles the taller man in the gut. Together they go to the ground. Tim screams like an animal and kicks Tony in the chest. Tony falls onto his back. I go to Tim and kick him repeatedly in the face until he passes out.

  “What the hell do we do now, Mama?!” Anna cries.

  My head is spinning. The lightning is exploding, the thunder crashing and the rain pouring down. The thunder reverberates off the lake. I see it in my head then. The boat.

  “Head down to the dock,” I say. “We’ll take the boat across the lake and go straight to the state police.”

  “But the storm, Mom,” Anna says. “You know what happened this afternoon.”

  I glance at Tim. How he’s still alive is beyond me, but he’s squirming. I know that in only a matter of seconds he will be up and coming after us once more. That’s how much evil fills his veins.

  “Your mother’s right, Anna,” Tony says. “Lead the way, ladies, and let’s get the hell out of here once and for all.”

  We head back in the house. I grab the key to the boat on the end table. We make our way out the kitchen door and down onto the dock. We remove the cover from the boat, untie the lines, and hop in.

  “I got this, Rose,” Anna insists.

  Tony gives me a look.

  “Wait till you see her pilot this boat,” I say.

  She slips the key into the ignition, powers her up, and then turns on the running board lights.

  “Hang on,” she says, pushing the throttle forward, while depressing the button that lowers the engine screw further into the water. “Screw the rules, we’re gonna give it all she’s got now.”

  We pull away from the dock and head for the first buoy. I feel the wind and the cold rain slap my face. Somehow, it is the most wonderful feeling in the world. Are we really home free? It sure seems that way. Just to make sure, I turn around to eye the old Moore house. An old haunted house in the woods. A house that smells of death. I’m about to turn back around and face the white capped lake, when I see a second boat gaining on us.

  The man standing in the cockpit is Tim Ferguson.

  CHAPTER 52

  TONY NOTICES THE expression on my face, even in the dark and the rain.

  “What the hell is wrong?” he says.

  “Anna!” I shout, above the wind and the heavy rain. “Whatever you do, don’t stop!”

  “What’s happening?!” she says.

  The boat is bumping and smacking against the heavy swells. I can feel the pounding in my knees and stomach. If Tony and I don’t hold onto the center console windshield, we’d go down on our backs. Another glance over my shoulder reveals Tim’s boat coming up on us fast. It’s a bigger boat, its steering column located in the front. How he’s managing to pilot his boat with his bloody injuries is a miracle. Or maybe, aside from the gouging out of his eye, his injuries are only superficial. Whatever the case, he’s gaining on us fast.

  Something else is happening at the same time. My feet are soaking. When the lightning bursts, I look down and see that there must be three inches of water already collected on the boat’s floor. More water than would come from the rain.

  Reaching around Anna, I tap Tony on the shoulder, point to the floor.

  “We’re taking on water,” I say.

  He glances at the floor, turns, and gazes at the oncoming boat.

  “That’s him, isn’t it,” he says like a question he already knows the answer to.

  “No choice but to outrun him,” I shout. Then, “Anna, can you make this thing go any faster?”

  She shakes her head.

  “It’s going full throttle now,” she says.

  “He must have sabotaged the boat,” I say. “It’s the only explanation. He must have punched holes in the hull, the son of a bitch.”

  I turn to get a look at Tim again. He’s only a few feet from our stern. A pair of oars are set against the port side of the boat. Emergency propulsion should the engine give out. I grab one oar, hand it to Tony. I take the other oar in both my hands. When Tim rams our bow, I nearly fall. If she isn’t holding on to the wheel, Anna would fall too. Lightning strikes nearby, and I can make out Tim’s blood-soaked beard and missing eye. I see the holes and gashes I cut into his face. His many wounds aren’t slowing him down. He has the power of the devil in his soul.

  “Jesus, he’s trying to sink us!” Tony shouts.

  “Next time he rams us,” I say, “try and stick him with the oars. It’s our only chance.”

  “Wait for it,” Tony yells. “Here comes the bastard.”

  The bow of Tim’s boat rams us again. That’s when we both thrust the oars out and nail Tim in the chest. He flies onto his back, his boat making a hard-right turn and nearly capsizing. I shoot Tony a grin.

  But then Tim stands tall. He rights the boat and begins gaining on us once more.

  “Here he comes again,” I say.

  Our boat begins to slow down.

  “What’s happening, Anna?” I shout, over my shoulder.

  “I don’t know,” she says. “I’ve got the throttle going full speed, but it’s not getting the gas.”

  “Let me check,” Tony says.

  He goes to the stern, drops to his knees, and checks the black rubber hose that connects the red plastic gas tank to the outboard motor. Since it’s nearly impossible to see in the dark and only the stern lamp offering any light whatsoever, he uses his fingers to feel the hose.

  He stands, shaking his head.

  “It’s been cut,” he says. “Unless somebody has some electrical tape on them, we’re screwed.”

  Tim’s boat is coming up on us fast. He rams us. Anna falls back onto the water-soaked floor and I do the same. Tony doesn’t fall onto the floor. He goes over the side.

  I bound back up.

  “Anna, turn the boat around,” I insist.

  Tim is pulling up to our starboard side. I thrust the oar against his chest. I connect once and he falls back. But when he gets back up, he grabs hold of the oar and yanks it out of my hand.

  “Help!” Tony screams while treading water. “Help me!”

  The boat is now free floating. Anna is offering Tony her hand. He takes hold of it. I grab the second oar as Tim attempts to jump from his boat to ours. But that’s not going to happen under my watch.

  “Die, you son of a bitch!” I scream, sticking him in the face with the oar.

  He screams and falls back. Dropping the oar, I assist Anna with pulling Tony back out of the water and into the boat. He’s breathing heavily.

  “Look,” he says in between breaths, “I’ll hold the hose together. You give it the gas, Anna. Before he gets up and comes after us again. But you gotta do it now—or all is lost.”

  Anna has one hand on the wheel, the other on the throttle. I’m standing beside her, while I’m hanging on with both hands to the center console windshield. She shoves the throttle all the way forward and we take off like a rocket. The boat’s hull is colliding with the swells and the rain and the wind is once again slapping me in the face. Glancing over my shoulder, I see that Tony is desperately clinging with both hands to the hose. When more lightning flashes, I can see that we’re actually putting some distance between us and Tim. If we can keep this up, he’ll have no choice but to back off, and turn back for home, or else face the wrath of the Paradox county sheriff and the state police.

  For the first time since we started out, I can make out the vague evidence of lamp lighting on the opposite side of the lake. It means that soon we’ll be coming up on the
town. It means we’re almost home free. It means we’re going to live. Releasing one hand from the windshield, I run it up and down my daughter’s back. She shoots me a smile. She’s clearly in control of her boat. She’s grown up so much over the past week, it’s incredible. Perhaps, in some small way, some real good has come out of this tragedy. It’s forced Anna to grow up and it’s forced me to let her go. I can’t protect her for the rest of her life. She needs to learn to protect herself, and that’s exactly what’s happened at Paradox Lake.

  Then, the boat begins to slow again.

  Oh God no …

  Hang in there, Rosie, you’re doing fine.

  Don’t give up, Rose.

  I’m trying. We’re all trying. But our luck is running out.

  Don’t say that. You can beat this son of a bitch, Rose.

  Thanks, Charlie. But we’ve tried everything.

  Tony is a good man, Rosie. A creative dude. I can bet he comes up with something.

  Jesus, let’s hope so.

  The swells are now pounding us instead of the other way around. I turn. Tim is once more gaining on us. The bow of his big boat is coming at us at full speed. If he smashes into us, he’ll kill us all. I shift my focus to Tony. He’s moving his hands up and down the black rubber line.

  “The line is gone,” Tony says, gazing up at me with a rain-soaked face.

  Even in the darkness, I can see that gas is spurting out of the hose. Tim must have cut it in half a dozen places. He must have known we’d eventually have no choice but to escape by boat. He must have planned it this way. He wanted us to make it out onto the water where he could finish us off, then toss our bodies into Paradox Lake.

  “It’s not getting the gas,” Anna barks.

  Then, the boat stalls altogether.

  “It just won’t go,” she cries, thrusting the throttle back and forth.

  Tim is coming up on us fast.

  “Tony!” I scream, “What the hell do we do now?!”

  He stands, his clothing soaked and sticking to his muscular body. He’s digging into his bush jacket pockets. He turns to me, looks me in the eyes. The look is a strange one because it contains both hope and desperation at the same time.